


Of Sheriffs and Tiger Moms

by 222Ravens



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/222Ravens/pseuds/222Ravens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a routine traffic stop leads to an unexpected meeting, and much grumbling about the stubborn idiocy of men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because Supernatural's most bad-ass surviving ladies needed to meet, and because I said so.
> 
> Commenters will receive hugs and free rock salt.

Interstate 90, Outside Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

 

“Shit.” Linda Tran mutters, pulling over to the side of the highway in response to the blinking lights and siren of a sheriff’s vehicle.

 

She can’t believe she’d actually been stupid enough to be going over the limit. Seriously. She was better than that. The _last_ thing she needed was cops on her ass. If her name got in the system again? That made her a hell of a lot easier for the demons to track her down. She’d gotten re-tatted, sure. But that wasn’t much insurance, as she knew too well. Still, she wasn’t planning on letting any jumped up British assholes walk around in her again.

 

The sheriff or whoever gets out of her car and makes her way over to Linda’s piece of crap rental car. Time to think fast. If that’s actually just a sheriff, she can probably sweet-talk her way into getting off with a warning. Must be a slow day for law enforcement, she was doing maybe ten over the limit. 

 

She could always pull the fake crying routine. Had enough practice lately, anyway, with each weekly phone call, which was all her dumb-ass self-sacrificing son would give her. She was trying to up the guilt trip as much as possible, and tears helped plenty with that. Kevin would come around eventually.

 

But for now, she had to think of a way to tell if that was a real sheriff or a black eyed hell bitch. Preferably a way that wouldn’t be suspicious enough to warrant a vehicle search. They might not take too kindly to the demonology books, rock salt rounds, shot gun, water guns, demon grenades, weird herbal crap, and other stuff she had in the trunk. 

 

No need to be too complicated. She’ll just go with the standard check.

 

In case her unfortunate hunch is right, Linda subtly reaches over to her water bottle, chock full of holy water complete with rosary at the bottom. She pops off the cap, then rolls down the window, keeping her hands on the steering wheel.

 

“Afternoon, ma’am.” The maybe-sheriff says. 

 

Linda smiles sheepishly. “Afternoon, Sheriff…”

 

Wait. Crap. Is asking for the name considered suspicious? She can’t remember. Damn it.

 

“Sheriff Mills.”

 

“Why was I pulled over?” Assert innocence.

 

“You were a little bit over the speed limit. Not too bad, you may or may not have been aware of that.”

 

She tries to look surprised. “Oh. Christo?” She says, resisting the urge to grab the water bottle, but ready to fling its contents and floor it at the first sign of trouble. 

 

Her rental generally sucked, but had good acceleration, at least. She’d worried about the issues with fleeing a sheriff later. Wouldn’t be the first time, at any rate.

 

The sheriff just raises her eyebrows. “What was that, exactly?”

 

Linda relaxes. So, not a demon. Just a potential speeding ticket. There’d been worse days.. “Nothing.”

 

“Uh huh. Mind letting me take a look at your license and registration, please?”

 

“No problem, sheriff. I’ll get that for you.” Linda pops open the glove compartment to pull them out. She catches a glimpse of the two large salt shakers crammed in there. Would that seem weird? Probably. Stay calm, Linda.

 

There’s nothing but a quizzical look and a remark of “Any particular reason you were speeding?”

 

“I’ve been really worried about my son recently, he’s been… sick, and I was going to visit him, and...” Try for crying? Nah. Seemed like she had a pretty good bullshit detector. Her fake tears might get past her son, but she wasn’t too certain if they were cop-worthy. And what she said was true enough, just not the full story.

 

That gets a penetrating look, as the other woman hands back the license and registration. “Well, sorry to hear that. It might even be true, but if it is, I’ll probably  still have to give you a ticket. If it isn’t, and you’ve got a better reason to be hightailing it, well, I’ll send you on your way.”

 

Damn. She’d been hoping that would have worked. Lady looked like a mom. 

 

The sheriff sighs. “So, Linda Tran. There a reason you’ve got a rosary in your water bottle, a bunch of salt in your glove compartment and were muttering about Christo? Because your answer might be very interesting to me.”

 

Double shit. “I’m really religious?” Linda offers. “Drink in Jesus with every sip? And I know, doctor says I should cut back on the salt, hypertension and whatever, but…”

 

“Okay, cut the crap. You a hunter?”

 

Linda grins. Huh. There was a surprise. This lady seemed pretty capable. Seemed like someone she could trust. Play it coy, though. “Define hunter?”

 

Sheriff Mills smiles back. “Okay, fair enough. You sort are always suspicious of law enforcement. I’m one of the good ones, though. You working a job in these parts? You should let me know if you are, I’ll see what I can do to help things along for you. I haven’t heard any chatter about anything too weird popping up, but I guess I could have missed something. Good job on the Christo thing, I should remember that.”

 

“Thanks. Had to think fast, there. I’m not a hunter. Just a mom with a kid that got mixed up in a damn big mess.” Linda confesses. “Because I’m assume you and I are on the same page and we’re talking supernatural type of hunting? Demons and leviathans and crap?”

 

That gets a startled look. “I thought the Leviathans were gone, least that’s what I assumed. Been a little out of the loop lately.”

 

“They are. It’s the demons that are the big problem.”

 

She seems impressed. “Dealt with zombies, gods, and Leviathans, but not demons. That was more a friend of mine.”

 

“Was?”

 

“He died. Lost some good people that way. It’s Jody, by the way. Listen, if you’re really running from demons, you need a place to stay for the night? My house has got Devil’s Traps and salt, and it’s just me in the place now. I actually get off my shift right about now.”

 

Linda pauses, thinking it over. “I’m not a lesbian.”

 

“Not hitting on you. Just a friendly chat.”

 

Another pause. “You aren’t a witch, are you?”

 

The sheriff, (Jody) laughs. “No, I’m really a sheriff. Wouldn’t mind an update on the hunting world, it’s been about a year since I’ve heard anything. Last I heard anything was when I gave all of my friend’s old books and crap to some kid called Garth something. Dumbass gave me the wrong number, though, and the only other hunters I know…” Jody sighs. “They didn’t respond to any phone calls for six months, so I figure…”

 

“Did you say Garth?” Linda interrupted. “Skinny little weird guy?”

 

“You know him too?”

 

“Semi-unfortunately. Yeah. My son’s with him right now. He’s a prophet of the lord.”

 

Jody looks incredulous. "You're joking?"

 

"Why? Think God doesn't like Asians or something? Why do you think there are so many of us?" Linda retorts.

 

"Oh... Your son is a prophet? Okay, no, I'll buy it. I thought you were saying that  _Garth_ was a prophet. And, like I said, guy can't even remember his own phone number, so..."

 

She softens. "Ah. Right. Fair enough. Nope, Kevin Tran, prophet of the lord. He was also in advance placement."

 

"Good for him." Jody grabs a pen from her pocket. "So, what do you say?"

 

"Okay. You know Garth, so… Yeah. I’ll trust you."

 

“Okay, let me give you the address, I’ll meet you there in about an hour. Sound good?” 

 

“Works for me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the house details and number from episode 5x15, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid, and picked a random street name, because obviously the house used in filming is in Vancouver, not actually South Dakota.
> 
> Wow, probably should not have stayed up as late as I did working on this chapter. Enjoy!

 She kills a bit of time getting something to eat and fuelling up. After consulting a map at the gas station, pulls up to the house, 905 Blackwood. Not bad. Nice place, really. Very blue. The lawn could use a bit of work, but hey, with the places Linda had been living lately, she wasn’t exactly going to judge.

 

It takes her a minute to grab her necessary stuff from the trunk. If that Delta witch-and-word-that-rhymed-with-it taught her one thing, it was that there was no such thing as too paranoid. 

 

Jody answers the door promptly. She’s changed into a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. What was with the plaid shirts, anyway, some sort of crappy Hunter’s uniform?

 

 “Linda, hey. Come in. I’ve got lasagne in the oven. Want anything to drink?”

 

Linda offers up the holy water bottle. “You first. Sorry, but…”

 

Jody just laughs, a little sadly, and takes it in response. “Hey, ten four. I’m used to it. Well, Bobby put it in the beer, but different strokes, right?”

 

Linda takes a sip before she puts it back in her bag, and follows Jody in, kicking off her shoes. “Pretty much, yeah.”

 

They settle for the living room, after getting fairly large glasses of wine. It’s a pretty standard, about what she was expecting from the outside. The two sofas don’t match, which seemed a bit odd, but she wasn’t going to question it. The artwork above the mantelpiece was nice, though a seascape scene.  Linda stops to pick up one of the family photos on the mantelpiece, remarking “Thought you said it was just you here.”

 

Jody’s face tells her she made a mistake. “I am. My son and husband… It’s a long story. Remember I said zombies? Technically, the dead rose, then turned zombie. My son included. Thought I was getting him back, but I ended up just losing more.” Her tone is wistful.

 

Poor Eunice pops into her head, and the whole mess with the auction, her soul, _Crowley_. “Unfortunately, I know the feeling.” Linda drinks. It’s actually a great wine, which surprises her a little.

 

“How about you? Your son, obviously, but…”

 

Linda snorts. “Nah, the father was….” She trails off, unsure of the correct wording, before eventually giving up entirely. “I’m good with the single mom thing, though. Didn’t think I was going to be… I was a little wild in my youth, if you’ll believe it. Trust me, you aren’t the first cop I’ve dealt with.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You know?” Linda stares, surprised.

 

“What, you think I let just anybody stay in my house? Pulled up your file on the way over. Relax, I’ve seen worse. The sheep incident, though…”

 

They both crack up. “Oh, that… That was fun. Slightly illegal, but fun. I’m much reformed now, though. Ish.”

 

A few minutes pass in companionable silence, before Linda breaks it with “So, that how you got into the supernatural thing? Your family? If you don’t mind me asking.”

 

Jody takes a drink. “Just about, yeah. That was back when the apocalypse was still happening. Around the same time got to know a man who owned a salvage yard outside of town. Bobby Singer. Thought for years he was just the crazy town drunk. Turned out he’d saved our asses about a hundred times over, including then, him and two younger guys who were pretty much like sons to him, I guess. They were the ones I was talking about, that I lost contact with. Helped him out a few more times, then started on my own a bit, keeping an eye out for cases, letting hunters know about stuff. I liked him a lot. He was too old for me, of course, and I think still hung up on his dead wife, but…”

 

“You liked him anyway?” Linda suggests.

 

There’s a half shrug to answer. “Maybe. He saved my life, again, then a couple of weeks after that, he kissed me. Just once. Heat of the moment thing, I think. I’m not too sure. Never was with Bobby Singer. Then next thing I hear I’m getting a call from the Winchesters to tell me the Leviathans killed him. Dumb bastard. The Winchesters too, I’m assuming.” She laughs, bitterly.

 

Linda chokes on her wine. “Well, isn’t this very ‘Small World’. Did you say _Winchesters_? Sam and Dean? Because they aren’t dead. Stubborn and bossy as all hell, but still kicking, last I heard, which was a week ago.”

 

Jody grabs her arm, nearly spilling the remains of both their glass. “Sam and Dean? Wait, you’re telling me those idiots are _alive?”_

 

Linda shakes her head. “Oh… So when you were talking about those two hunters… “

 

“Yup.”

 

“They were ignoring your calls too, huh?” And I thought Kevin was special,” she finishes bitterly. 

 

The sheriff gets up. “Damn. That’s the best news I’ve heard in months. Still, I don’t know whether to hug you or go and punch the two of them in the face. I’ll settle for another glass of wine, though, after which point you are telling me the whole story, from the beginning. Then we’re calling that Garth idiot. Deal?”

 

“That works. I wouldn’t mind berating them as well.”


End file.
